


Immigrant

by theinconceivabletruth



Series: Tao Meditations [2]
Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Gen, Hopeful, Loneliness, character exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinconceivabletruth/pseuds/theinconceivabletruth
Summary: Eugenides deals with the irritations and missing pieces that cause homesickness.Day 213: ImmigrantPart of a series of daily writing exercises, based on a book of daily Tao meditations.
Series: Tao Meditations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710055
Kudos: 10





	Immigrant

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series based on 365 Tao: Daily Meditations, using each day's theme as a prompt. The poem at the beginning is taken from the book, and does not belong to me.

_ Magic doesn’t work in this new place.  _

_ Native poetry has lost rhythm and rhyme,  _

_ Familiar food is labeled a curiosity,  _

_ And hostile stares replace familial love. _

_ To be an immigrant _

_ Is to be solitary in the midst of millions.  _

The incense burning in the temple to the Great Goddess in Attolia was wrong. 

It likely wasn't for lack of trying, Eugenides mused. The scent was properly light, unlike in the temples to the new gods where incense burned heavy and cloying and would cling to clothing for hours afterwards. That was a useful feature in itself, but it had no place in a temple to Hephestia. 

The incense was the wrong scent. It should be pine, like the towering trees that grew on the slopes of Hephestia's Sacred Mountain. Instead it was a light, almost flowery scent, and it itched in Eugenides' nose. The temple attendant looked equally uncomfortable, though that could have been a consequence of the still-lingering fiction that he was only a figurehead, and the scene he had made the last time he had entered a temple. It shouldn't have bothered him - the incense, that is. He reserved the right to be frustrated about something he hated. 

For a man like Eugenides, who spoke directly with the gods, and whose life was to some extent managed by them, incense was an inconsequential thing to his faith. The Thieves of Eddis carried their gods with them, in name and in deed. But so far away from his home, so far away from where he had been taught his faith - the incense was one more thing that was unwelcoming to his presence in Attolia. 

Despite this, he continued onwards between the great columns. 

Eugenides entered the small alcove reserved for the Thief God. He cast an appraising eye over the altar. At one point, the stone altar had only been sparsely covered, all the offerings Eugenides' own. Now he saw trinkets and baubles he did not recognize the origin of. In the corner, a vaguely familiar fibula pin caught his eye. It took him a moment to recognize it as the one Hiero had given him a few weeks back, when his attendants had still been laboring under the impression of his inadequacy. 

He laughed. Irene’s complexion had darkened considerably when she had first glimpsed it, but Eugenides hadn’t known it had bothered her to such an extent. 

His god would be pleased. 

Perhaps he could write a letter to Eddis about the pine incense. 

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome, but please bear in mind that these have minimal editing in terms of grammar.
> 
> There are several other works in this series, from multiple fandoms.


End file.
